The Red Hair Scandal
by Darko28
Summary: Everyone in the Weasley clan has red hair, it’s a commonly known fact. But what happens when one morning Ron wakes up to find that something’s gone seriously wrong? Who's to blame?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
**Title:** The Red Hair Scandal  
  
**Summary:** Everyone in the Weasley clan has red hair, it's a commonly known fact. But what happens when one morning Ron wakes up to find that something's gone seriously wrong...  
  
**Rating:** PG for violence and language  
  
**Author:** Punk up the Volume on ff.net, NeoAnderson, respectively, on Fictionalley.org  
  
**A/N:** This is in response to the Weasley Red Hair Challenge posted at fictionalley. Thought it was a sweet idea so I decided to accept and try to break my writer's block spell. Remember to review, I'd do it for you.

* * *

**Definition of Weasley Hair:** A commonly used description in the Wizarding world to describe someone with red colored hair. The Weasley clan is notorius for their hair color and have become known by it.  
  
**Draco Malfoy's Thoughts on the Weasley Hair:** It's like a classification. You can spot them by it. It's like a marking of the lower classes. They all have it, you know; there's probably hundreds of them. It's disgusting.  
  
**Ginny Weasley's Thoughts on the Weasley Hair:** I want to dye my whole head.  
  
**Ron Weasley's Thought on the Weasley Hair:** I don't mind it. It's not that bad. I just wish it would stay that way!  
  
**Fred and George Weasley's Thoughts on the Weasley Hair**: It was a harmless prank. Honestly, we didn't think he would be so uptight about it.  
  
**Harry Potter's Thoughts on the Weasley Hair:** Sometimes, I kinda wish I had red hair. Maybe then I'd fit in with someone.  
  
**Ginny's Unfinished Thoughts on the Weasley Hair:** Honestly! If Harry wants to fit in so badly he can have my bloody hair! I'd rather be a brunette anyway.

* * *

It was a scream that woke the entire Weasley household, the morning before September 1st. It was another scream that echoed, bringing everyone running to the room Ron Weasley shared with Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley was the first to arrive at the room. Her room, after all, was right next to Ron's and the walls were paper thin. Hermione Granger followed behind her, rubbing the sleep with her eyes. With a yawn and an indignant, "Honestly, Ron, waking the whole household!" Then, looking up, she went silent, staring in awe.  
  
"What have you done to your hair!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, coming up behind Ginny and Hermione. Pushing past the both of them without another glance, Mrs. Weasley rushed to her stunned some and grabbed his head comfortingly in her arms. She pulled at Ron's newly blonde hair, expecting it to come off on her fingers.  
  
"Ow...ow...ow- Mum! For Christssake, I'm not dying!"  
  
"Oh, my poor Ronny, what have they done to your bloody hair!"  
  
"Mum...you're...hurting...me..." Ron replied enigmatically, pulling out of her grip, a clump of his bright hair still in her hand.  
  
"Bloody hell!" Fred wheezed, thrown into a fit of giggles. "You look like Malfoy!"  
  
"You take that back!" Ron shouted, pointing his finger threateningly at them."You take that the fuck back-"  
  
"Ronald!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as Mrs. Weasley nearly fainted.  
  
"You did this, didn't you?" Ron accused, narrowing his eyes and the twins, who were giving their mother their best innocent little boy looks. "You did it some how. Tell me how to fix it!"  
  
The twins shrugged in unison. "We didn't-"Fred started.  
  
"Do it." George agreed.  
  
"We swear." They finished in unison.  
  
"Everyone calm down," Hermione called out, trying to be the peacemaker as always. She had to stifle a giggle as looked Ron up and down. There was bright blond- no...bright yellow hair sprouting up from his head instead of the usually curly red mop. She couldn't say that she didn't prefer it to the usual look...of course she wouldn't say it out loud.  
  
"I don't have to calm down." Ron argued. "I'm the victim here! I'm going to kill them!"  
  
That was when Ron lunged at Fred and George. Unfortunately, with the overcrowding in Ron's small room, his aim was largely innaccurate and he ended up hitting Ginny in the leg. Consequently, Ginny fell into Hermione, who fell into George, which started a domino effect of great proportion. Once everyone had fallen to the floor at least once, Ron dragged himself over to the twins, who effortlessly dodged his heavy and poorly aimed blows. Trying to avoid an all out blow and family crisis, Mr. Weasley grabbed both Ron and George by the collars of their sleep shirts and lifted them to the ground, a safe distance away from eachother.  
  
"What about him," George pointed indignantly towards his twin, who responded with a frown.  
  
Mr. Weasley, who was a small man himself and struggling with the weight of two of his sons, both who were taller than himself, nodded towards Ginny and asked, "Could you please grab him dear, just to be fair?"  
  
With a grin and inordinate ammout of strength for...well, a girl, Ginny raised Fred off the floor by the scruff of her neck. It was like her dreams had come true. Ron had been humiliated by his entire family, Hermione was speechless, and her father had given her permission to finally shut one of her older brothers up.  
  
"Now," Mr. Weasley said quite calmly after a moment. "Everyone is going to calm down. Fred, George, you are going to tell us how to fix this mess,"  
  
"But we didn't-"  
  
"Molly, dear," Mr. Weasley, interrupted, continuing on. "You are going to stop being so overly dramatic. Ron, you will under no circumstances attack any of your relatives or friends. Harry, you will...um..."  
  
Harry waited expectantly for his task.  
  
"Ginny," he went on as Harry frowned, "Drag Fred and George down to the kitchen, won't you?"  
  
"We can drag ourselves, thank you." Fred replied indignantly as he and George wriggled out of their captor's grip.  
  
"Hermione," Mr. Weasley turned towards her. "Would you please make us some coffee, dear? None of us can figure out how to work that damn thing-a-ma- jigger you parents bought for us."  
  
Hermione gave him a puzzled look, shrugged, and then nodded.  
  
"Alright. Let's go."

* * *

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Ron muttered irritably. He sat on one end of the long kitchen table while the seven other members of the group sat at the opposite end. He suddenly felt very cold and alone as the others stared at him like some sort of circus freak. He had been to the circus once before and he had not liked what he saw.  
  
"Sorry. Sorry." They all mumbled, slightly apologetic.  
  
"Now," Mrs. Weasley sighed, staring at her hands. She could not look at her darling baby boy. What if this was permanent! How could she live this down? He looked like one of those hoodlum muggle boys on their skating boards listening to their hippity hoppity, or some mumbo jumbo like that. Arthur had explained it to her before, but she had stopped listening twenty five years before. "Let's just all be reasonable."  
  
"Hermione?" Harry looked at the premiere bookworm in the area but she merely bit her lip and shook her head. Once again, she leafed through her books but shut them after a moment. "There's nothing like...this," She darted her eyes toward Ron's yellow hair, "In any book."  
  
"Honestly, I don't see what the big deal is." George announced, irritated. "Just shave his head."  
  
"What!" Ron shouted, nearly fainting himself.  
  
"Yeah." Fred chuckled. "Off with his head-...I mean...hair."  
  
Ron clenched his hands into fists while his face turned a dark shade of purple. It looked as if steam were about to blow out his ears. It would not surprise anyone; after all, who had been expecting to be awakened at six in the morning by a sixteen year old boy screaming bloody murder because he looked in the mirror.  
  
"Be ready to hold him back," Mr. Weasley whispered to his only daughter who nodded in response.  
  
"Hermione," Mrs. Weasley spoke heavily for the second time. "Are you sure."  
  
"Well," Hermione sighed."There is one spell...colorius changus. It's a very basic spell really, but I already tried this. This is either a very advanced spell, or-"  
  
"Or what?" Ron questioned expectantly. "Or what?"  
  
"Or it's not a spell at all."  
  
Nobody had an answer to that except Fred, who muttered, "Told you so."  
  
"Well, then, there's really nothing you can do." Mr. Weasley answered. "We'll just have to wait it out and see what happens."  
  
"See what happens?" Ron repeated. "Bloody hell! What is with you people? I am in pain-"  
  
The entire table stared at him dubiously.  
  
"Well, not physically. More emotionally. What am I going to do? I'll be the laughingstock of the school! I'll be harassed! Laughed right out of class!"  
  
"Oh, you'll be fine." Mr. Weasley answered, moving out of his seat. He walked over to the kitchen sink and poured out his full cup of coffee. Although Hermione was raised muggle for most of her life, she could not for the life of her make a decent cup of coffee.  
  
"Oh, right. I'll be fine. Sure." Ron replied sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest.  
  
"That's my brave little boy." Mrs. Weasley answered, missing his sarcasm as she kissed the top of his head. Ron made an unhappy face and stuck his tongue out. Nobody was a help...nobody...

* * *

It was ten minutes until the Hogwarts Express was set to leave and Ron could not be coaxed out of the family car.  
  
"I'll give you a cookie." Harry promised, holding out an Oreo that Hermione had given to him. Although Ron was tempted, not having any breakfast at all, he merely gave them a look of disgust and snarled like a rabid dog.  
  
"He's not taking the cookie." Harry explained to Hermione, who could plainly see that Ron had not taken the bait.  
  
"C'mon, Ron," Ginny exclaimed, tugging at his arm. "It's not that bad. Really. I would love to be blonde." She lied through her teeth.  
  
"Really?" he asked hopefully, a sparkle of hope in his eye.  
  
Ginny gave him her sweetest smile. "Would I lie to you?"  
  
Ron mulled this questioned over. He was quite sure Ginny would lie to him in a heartbeat, but he also certainly couldn't spend the rest of the year in the car. His mum and dad were already getting quite fed up with his theatrics. Grudgingly, Ron moved out of the car and grabbed his trunk. He pulled out his prepared hat and the sunglasses that he had dug out of the attic. Looking in the rearview mirror, he could barely recognize himself. Success!  
  
As the troupe walked down the platform towards Platform 9 ¾, Ron skulked behind them. He was going to be horribly embarressed, he just knew it!  
  
"Hey, Weasley!" Malfoy called from his spot farther down the platform. "Glad to see you've finally come to your senses. No use being a Weasley, is there? Dropped the red hair? It won't help you!"  
  
Ron snarled at them and made a sound that reminded Hermione and Harry of a squirrel gone mad. Behind them, Ginny grinned and lugged her trunk behind her. She had to be careful to open it in private; it held a certain box she couldn't very well throw away at home. A muggle box marked "Blonde Color #44". In front of her, Hermione turned around and winked. Muggle supermarkets weren't quite useless.


End file.
